Beyond the Heart
by Lyssaphra
Summary: REVISED Summer after GoF is hell for Harry. As Snape comes to fetch him from there at the request of Dumbledore, he is enraged by the situation. He will not allow this anymore. Harry will NOT spend another summer there.
1. Default Chapter

Beyond the Heart

By Licca

_Revisions begun 120202_

Prologue

_Harry's POV___

The hunger is tearing me up inside. I haven't been able to eat for quite a while now, as the Dursleys is keeping me at existence minimum. Nothing new there. The running point is that my body needs nutrition more now than ever. Not only am I a growing teenager, but I'm also recovering from my latest joust with Voldemort. Madame Pomfrey gave me serious orders to eat plentiful and healthily during the holidays. I don't think she counted on my relatives though. There's no doubt I will survive, but considering I'm well past being able to count my ribs… 

I live in the cellar now. The Dursleys actually spent some money on installing a cot and a toilet down here during the term. Dudley finally convinced them that he needed the second bedroom I guess. It's not too bad down here, if you consider how people on the street have it. Cold as hell, slightly damp and full of nice little critters, but habitable. Not that it matters, as I'm too weak to appreciate it any more. I spend most of my time on my cot, buried beneath my quilt.

The Dursleys showed me here as soon as I arrived, telling me that I wouldn't have to do any shores this year, that I instead would stay here for the summer and be left alone. They even were so kind as to leave me my school things minus my wand in here. Hedwig they let loose at my suggestion, and I guess she is either at Ron's or at Hogwarts. Food is provided once a day, but with Dudley on a diet again, you can guess how much food I get. I quickly started to loose weight and then the hunger kicked in. Now I've gotten so far as to not being able to eat anything without throwing up. I think it's a rather bad sign.

Feeling tired, like I've been feeling for a long while now, I huddle myself into a ball, hugging the quilt tightly around me. It doesn't help against the hunger, but at least it keeps to cold out. I can feel my eyes falling together, and I know that the hell I live in will soon be replaced by the hell I dream of.

Sev's POV 

Just for the record, I do hate Potter. The little brat could just stay away from Hogwarts for the rest of his life and hide for all I care. However, Dumbledore doesn't share my opinion of the annoyance of my life. He thinks I should be _nice_ to spoiled, arrogant Potter with his famous name and family fortune. My only comment to _that_ is: 'I would rather be hit by a dozen of Cruciatus curses'. And because of _that _all too accurate comment, I'm on my way to the Dursley house to pick up the little monster so he can meet his cold-hearted, bastard godfather, whom is even worse than he is.

Still blazing over the unfair mission I've been given, I jump off my broom behind a strategically conjured bush and dust off my impeccable black slacks and shirt after leaning the broom against a wall. The reason I chose not to Apparate here, is that I really don't like that way of travelling. It makes me sick, and reminds me of Voldemort. I _always_ have to Apparate to his manor when I'm summoned before him. And that is one of the most unpleasant things you can experience.

I walk over to the plain door and promptly knock on it, wearing an expressionless face. I can hear feet walk over to the door, and then it opens, revealing the fattest boy I've ever seen. He could easily win a weight competition with a rhino, and isn't more than a few inches taller than Potter. Disgusting. Another proof of the spoilage going on in this house. I'm surprised Potter isn't as fat as he is.

"Dudleykins? Who is it?"

The voice belongs to a woman, and as she speaks, 'Dudleykins' glares at me.

"Some man with yellow skin" he yells back, his voice sounding like a tortured pig.

Yellow skin? I can see where Potter's insolence comes from. A fat man is coming from what I deduce to be the living room, an impatient look on his face as he stares at me. This family sure isn't one of the nicest muggle families I've met in my life. Potter fits right in with them.

"What do you want?" the man bellows at me. 

I glare back at him, my best Death Eater expression on my face.

"I'm here to fetch Potter," I curtly answer, not wanting to spend more time than needed with Potter and his family.

To my surprise, 'Dudleykins' pales and shrieks, running away while holding his butt possessively. Strange boy. The man just glowers at me though, probably thinking he's intimidating. Personally, I have a rather easy time to not cower before him. 

"So you're getting the boy early this year," the man snarls, a pompous look on his face, making me wonder for a second if thinking you're above everyone else goes in Potter's family. "Well, take him with you and do feel free to keep him."

Muggles! I glower at him and step into the house while pondering his last sentence. If my skills at interpreting the human language hasn't wilted and died, the man indicated that Potter wasn't much liked by his relatives. But they were his family, and aren't family supposed to love each other?

"Just hand over the boy and his things," I coldly say, somewhat absently I have to admit though. The situation I've stumbled into puzzles me, I haven't seen a glint of Potter so far – but then again, if Potter's family behaves like this to him I don't blame him from keeping his distance. Maybe he has a handful of brains in that Gryffindor head after all. "And I _may_ refrain from hexing you."

The man glares at me but waddles over to a locked cupboard, reaching into it to take out Potter's wand. I can't imagine what it's doing in there either. If it is something that Hogwarts teaches, it's to always keep your wand near. You would think that Potter with his attraction to trouble would have learned that by now. But seemingly not.

Taking the wand the man offers me, I pocket it and follow the very ireful man to Potter's room. To my surprise, he doesn't lead me upstairs, where the bedrooms must be, but lead me to the kitchen and a door next to the larder. Taken by surprise, I stare at the barred door that obviously lead down to the cellar. Potter can't be kept and barred into the cellar, can he?

Confirming my suspicions, the man reaches out to heave away the heavy beam blocking the door. They are keeping Potter locked into the cellar. Quickly, I shove the man to the side, ignoring the fact that he falls to his butt and whisper 'alohomora' under my breath, directing the magic to the bar and door before me. Bar falling apart, the door turning into dust due the will behind the spell. And I am angry.

I stare down the dimly lit staircase leading down into the ground. A cellar. They put him in a cellar. Mentally, I try to repress the panicked flashbacks of darkness, of fear, of loneliness and pain from my childhood to concentrate on the now. This is not good, and I truly fear what I will find at the bottom of the stairs. For if they can lock a teenager into a cellar, what else can they do? Potter may not be my favourite person of all time, but no student of mine will ever have to go through something like this. Because I know all too well what it can do to you.

Rapidly descending down into the cellar, I concentrate as much as I can on the now instead of the past memories that keep resurfacing. Shuddering involuntarily, I murmur a 'lumos' to my wand to light up the staircase further and chase away the memories of being alone and scared in the darkness. 

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I look around, searching for the figure of the boy Harry Potter. His relatives apparently were nice enough to install a toilet down here, and I can see the outline of a small cot on the other side of the room. But even so, it's far below the living standards I consider acceptable. Especially considering the bar upstairs. 

Stepping further into the room, I spot him, lying on the cot with a quilt wrapped tightly around him. Judging from his trembling form and the cool air down here, he is cold. If he has been living down here since he returned from Hogwarts, I wouldn't be surprised if I have to make a coughing cure. He needs to get out of here.

The light I carry seems to wake him up, causing him to sit up and squint at me through the meagre light, staring uncomprehendingly at me for a second before recognizing me.

"Professor Snape?" his voice is quiet as if he hasn't used it for some time and I can barely hear him. Something that is more than possible with those muggles upstairs.

"Yes," I curtly say, my voice somewhat softer than usually.

His face lightens up and he gets to his feet slowly, as if every move he makes is a pain, dropping the blanket in the process. And when I see how he looks, I have to withhold a strangled cry. Potter has never been a very big boy, despite the fact that neither of his parents were what you can call small. Now I understand why. Because if Potter was thin before, he's a skeleton now. I've never seen anyone so thin outside pictures before. There's no doubt about the reason either. The inhuman worms upstairs haven't been feeding him enough. 

"Potter," I carefully say, walking over to the boy, "Listen to me carefully now. How long was it since you got any food?"

He gives me a weak grin as the Gryffindor he is.

"Today," he rasps, pushing a longish strand of black hair from his face. "Some fruit. I couldn't keep it though. I haven't been able to do that for a while now."

Damn. That's it. He's going to Poppy now. And he's not going back here. Ever. Not while I'm still standing. Pointing at him with my wand, I mutter a short spell intending to put him into a healing rest. Then I lift him into my arms and Apparate. I can come back for the broom later. Right now, I have more important things to do.

Harry's POV 

**End of 5th year**

I watch Hedwig as she flies down to me, carrying the last mail I will get in my 5th year – the results of the OWLs. Glancing at Hermione, I can see how she almost jumps up and down of anxiousness. As if she has anything to worry about. Ron however, is glumly looking at his plate, obviously expecting a not too good result, even though Hermione has tried to prepare us since our first year. I though, just hope for the best. It has been really hard to pass the tests this year.

Much has happened this year. With Voldemort revived, even if not 'officially' due to Fudge's slight denseness, it has been all action and adventure. And please notice the sarcasm. Professors have been coming and going all over the place, out on unofficial missions for the Order of Phoenix. Especially Snape. I think he didn't even teach half of our lessons this year. And even though it feels strange to say it, our replacement, professor Sicklewing, isn't nearly as good as he.

The Order of Phoenix. I still remember when I heard of it last summer, eavesdropping on Dumbledore. Then, I didn't know much about them, now I know much more. I can't say I like them too much though. But that may have something to do with them using me as beat at the end of the year to catch a bunch of death eaters. Of course, they managed to botch it up, and I ended up having a little talk with His Silliness Voldemort. Over a fireplace thank lord, after managing to dispose of the death eaters with Ron and Hermione.

Speaking of Hermione, she has gotten her result now and is reading it intently, her eyes wide.

"I made it!" she shrieks. "I have the best grades in our year!"

I smile at her and receive my own letter from Hedwig, waiting with opening it though, seeing as Ron just received his and is opening it with shaking hands. And as his eyes widen, I know he has succeeded.

"I got more OWLs than Fred and George," he excitedly says. "Three more even. Guess if mom's going to be happy!"

Both Hermione and I laugh with him, clapping him on his shoulders.

"Well done!" I smile, happy for him. "Did you get any in potions, or did Snape drag down your result again?"

Ron shakes his head no, and Hermione looks wonderingly at Snape.

"Is it my imagination, or has Snape been easier on us this year?" she asks. "I can't think of even one occasion he's failed someone without reasons or been unusually hard on us."

Ron Iooks at her as if she's gone mad.

"Are we talking about the same person here?" Ron sceptically asks. "Snape, the slimy git whose only goal in life is to make everyone's life miserable?"

Hermione glares at him, but doesn't mention it again. Instead, she turns to me, looking expectantly at me.

"Well?" she questions. "How did you manage?"

I shake my head and take my letter. Then I break the seal and draw out the paper, scanning the paper and smiling. I managed quite well. I even have three OWLs in Transfiguration, as well as in flying, but I guess that is to be expected. What I didn't expect though, were the two OWLs I got in Potions.

Frowning, I ponder everything that has happened since Snape picked me up from the Dursleys last year. Maybe Snape has changed…

Snape's POV

Watching obtrusively as the three musketeers of Gryffindor open their letters, I smirk slightly at their expressions, only to frown as I think about the things I have learned this year. After fetching Harry for Dumbledore, I engaged in a little spy activity in the muggle district Surrey, set on finding the truth about Harry Potter. The result wasn't too nice. Apparently the Dursleys are well known for caring for a 'hopelessly criminal boy' who's not 'quite in possession of his mind'. In short, they consider him a freak of nature.

I shudder at the thought of it. It is hard enough growing up without anyone to love and care about you, but to grow up with constant reminding that you are a freak? Something makes me doubt Harry knows much about the love of a family at all. But that is something I'll do my best to correct.  I may not be the ideal person to do it, but I certainly have the motivation. Hopefully, that will be enough to begin with…

Dumbledore's POV

Severus is clearly fretting over the decision he has made, no matter how many times I've told him that he will be just fine. He and Harry will no doubt be good for each other. Harry needs a family, and Severus needs to live again. Even if I can see that having someone to care about is warming him up already…

Next


	2. 

Chapter One Harry's POV 

Looking at the train, I feel uneasy as I think of what will come. Another summer spent in isolation and discomfort at the Dursleys. Faintly, I wonder what will happen to me this summer. After all, last summer wasn't one of the most pleasant I've had in my life. Even if you cannot call any of them pleasant. That summer, I really wondered if what I was going through was right, if this was truly something I should put up with. At the end of the summer, I was seriously starting to doubt that I could trust the Dursleys anymore. They are family, but what they caused me to become then isn't easily forgiven.

I have to admit I probably would have come out much worse if not Snape had come to fetch me to Hogwarts that summer at Dumbledore's request (due to Sirius wanting to visit me). Never had I been so happy to see old nasty Snape in his dramatic black robes and greasy hair as then. But then again, he wasn't nasty at that time. He was actually rather nice. And more worried than I ever would have pegged him to be about the abhorred Boy Who Lived. When I woke up, I was in the hospital wing, being treated for malnutrition. Dumbledore was not very pleased with the Dursleys right then. Neither was Snape judging from his disgusted look as he told the headmaster about it. Needless to say, I stayed with Sirius alternatively the Weasleys the rest of that summer, recovering.

Anyway, here I am, standing at the station in Hogsmeade and preparing to board the train and go back to Uncle Vernon and the rest of my _loving_ relatives. Feeling tired and not so little negative. I mean, I have just spent another year under the threat of Voldemort, a _revived _one at that. One would think that this should be the best part of the year. Instead, this is worse than a face off with Voldemort. At least all he wants to do is kill me and maybe torture me. The Dursleys seem to think that I don't have the right to exist. Is this what family is supposed to be like?

With a resigned sigh, I heft my trunk onboard the train and try to step onboard myself. However, that is apparently not my fate as a strong hand with long, slender fingers grabs my arm and holds me back, another hand directing the trunk back onto the station with a wand.

"And where do you think you're going?" a low, all too dangerous voice asks, belonging to my all too despised potions teacher.

I gulp and turn around, facing the dark and very pissed Death Eater-turned-spy. What have I done wrong now?

"To the Dursleys?" I say with as much courage I can muster. Where else would I be going? It's the only home I have!

One of the dark eyebrows disappears behind the drape of greasy black hair always hanging in his face.

"No, you are not" he simply says. "Or do you want to go back to living in the cellar, unloved and uncared for?"

I shake my head furiously. Which sane person would want to live in a cold, dim, isolated and lonely cellar, forgotten by all? Someone maybe, but certainly not I. But it isn't as if I have an alternative.

"Good" Snape nods, grabbing his wand. "Mobiliarbus."

My trunk raise into the air, pulled by invisible strings. Then, Snape starts to guide us both back to Hogwarts. My faithful trunk and I. And we are both thoroughly confused by this new turn of events.

*****

Snape lets go of my trunk and me the moment we are inside Hogwart's walls guiding the latter gently to the ground. The next second, he strides off down one of the many corridors, no doubt heading towards the dungeons, leaving me alone and utterly confused.

"All right" I mutter. "What to do."

I shrug, choosing to simply sit down on my trunk, waiting for something to happen. In normal case, I would've called for Dobby and his friends asking them to get my trunk to my room in Gryffindor's tower, but this isn't a normal case. It is unheard of to let a student stay at Hogwarts over summer since Riddle's framing of Hagrid, and I don't know what to do.

Bored, I stare at the intricate pattern on the ornate doors leading out. As far as I can tell, there are thirty-nine roses on it. Forty-five minutes later, I also know there are 205 bumblebees hidden on it. I am just about to start counting the trees scattered all over it when I hear steps closing in on me.

Relieved that someone is finally coming, even as it most probably is Snape, I rise and turn towards the sound. I really don't know what I expect to see, but it certainly isn't a newly showered Snape with his now non-greasy hair in a ponytail and dressed in muggle pants, a tight, black tee and an open robe. It has to be an illusion.

"Quit staring, Potter"

On the other hand, maybe it isn't, I conclude. He is carrying a sleek, black broom in one hand and a trunk is trailing behind him, upheld by the magic of his wand. Apparently, he is leaving, only the gods know to where.

"Well, come on, Potter" he irritated says, his voice somewhat annoyed. "We haven't got all day."

And apparently soon me as well. This has to be one of the strangest days ever. Taking his lead, I grab my pocketed wand and mumble the appropriate spell to make my trunk trail after me like a puppy. I am apparently following Snape this summer, and I cannot really decide what I think of it.

Well outside, I find that Snape has mounted his broom and is waiting impatiently for me. Deciding not to make him grouchier than he already is, I do the same and look expectantly at him. 

"Sir?" I ask, using as little words as possible, as I still don't know where I have him. It seems to be safer to assume that he, like the Dursleys, prefer when I'm quiet and out of sight. I mean, this is my grouchy, bad tempered pain-in-the-ass potion professor, but he's also the man who has taken me from the Dursleys and is almost pleasant in his free time. My assumption doesn't seem to suit him well though, because he frowns, almost glaring at me.

"We are going to my cottage" he enlightens me, a slightly exasperated key to his voice. "And school's over for now. You may as well call me Severus like everyone else. Or Sev if you prefer that."

Did my ears just hear that? I am beyond baffled. Did Snape just allow me to call him by his first name? His _petname_? This world is definitely ending. But I don't get any more time to think about it, as Snape – no, _Severus_, I'm not about to risk calling him Sev, it's hard enough to call him Severus – kicks off, forcing me to follow. Still, the thoughts jumble in my mind. _Sev_? _Cottage_? I have never seen this side in Snape. Nevertheless, I can already say I like it better than his usual self.

Sev's POV 

I'm still raging at the thought of what Harry had to endure last summer. And probably all the other summers and years he spent with the Dursleys. How can one do such a thing to a child, let alone a relative? But then again, who am I to judge, Death Eater as I am. Or was. I've killed children after all, tortured them, felt pleasure in their pain. Even my own…

I shake those thoughts from my head. There's no use in going on a guilt trip right now, everything is hard enough as it is. I mean, look at the present situation! I'm flying a few kilometres above the ground within an anti-muggle bubble. The adolescent I've practically harassed since the first time I met him is following me tight on my heels, probably trying to figure out why I'm so nice to him so suddenly. _Then_ there's the fact we're going to my cottage, where I haven't brought anyone since _that_ day, after allowing Harry to see me more casual than I've shown myself in public for a long time. Then we have the fact that Sirius Black and his werewolf friend Remus is going to go berserk on me when they find out about the situation. Well, maybe not Remus Lupin, he's always been the more sensible of them, but can you say 'strange situation'? Add the fact that the boy is targeted by Voldemort, the one I _serve_, and you have a big mess. Literally.

I glance back at the boy riding behind and to my left. He's fifteen years old, yet he is only 5'2" tall, and neither of his parents was very short. My guess is the lack of a healthy life has inhibited his growing process, especially the events last summer. However, I will certainly fix that. A restore-your-growth potion and a healthy living for the summer will do.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Famous all over the world for the way Voldemort failed in killing him and lost his powers on the way. Harry lost his parents, and for that, I feel sorry even though I wasn't particularly fond of his parents. No child should have to endure that – I should know.

But the saddest thing is how the family given to him has treated him. Locked away, shouted at, being called an anomaly. And from what I saw last summer, he seems to view that as normal.

He's so pale. Almost sickly so. But then again, who wouldn't be after enduring what he has endured all his life. I would be – if I hadn't inherited the would-be golden skin (if I had more sun that is) from my mother. Instead, I'm pale yellow. It's strange that we're so alike in many ways, yet I haven't realized it until now.

Oh, crap. There's the bloody ravine. One would've thought I would've gotten used to the abrupt turn by now and _not_ almost crash right into the mountainside every time I go home by now. But no. Severus Snape, potions teacher and ex-chaser in Slytherin's Quidditch team always _just_ manage to stay clear of a solid, 700 feet tall cliffside. In addition, as I look back at Harry, I can see he neatly stayed clear of it and is looking like he is trying to conceal his amusement. It isn't working.

Deciding that this is a time as good as another to start the process to gain Harry's trust, I let myself crack, smiling for the first time in years, chuckling softly for the first time in over a decade. And as Harry sees I seem to not care much about it, he lets a small smile out. It's certainly not much, but it's a beginning. It has to be the first time either of us is at ease with each other.

However, it is getting dark, and even though I would prefer to use the slight opening I've gained, we sure don't have time to hover by the beginning of the ravine leading to my home and _smile_ all evening. Therefore, I start to move again, still smiling slightly. And when Harry follows, I can sense that my little mishap gained me my first few feet of ground.

My 'cottage', a simple two-story house in a solitary part of Wales' Mountains, has been in my family for centuries. From the beginning, it was a simple hunting cabin now it is my home. Built in natural wood and situated by a small stream, it's a wonderful place to live if you want a peaceful and beautiful home. In the summer, a wonderful garden with flowers in all possible colours grows around it, scenting the air with heavenly tastes. And to be honest, I love it.

However, as we land, it's already dusk, and we can't see the beauty of the place. Besides that, both Harry and I are dead on our feet. So, I decide to just get us inside and into bed to get some sleep. Which was a wise decision judging from the way Harry's stumbling after me, ignorant of all and everything.

Smiling slightly, I whisper a soft 'alohomora' to open the door and step into the warmth of home. And for once, I'm not overcome with pictures of the past, but feel only concern for the very sleepy fifteen year old staggering after me.

Seeing to that he let his trunk loose, I lead him to one of the bedrooms, the one which once belonged to my beloved Alisha. He promptly falls onto the bed, asleep as soon as he touches the cover, leaving it to me to bed him down, haunted by the memories of when I did the same thing to another child. A dark blonde little girl with the bluest eyes in the world. My daughter Alisha. The second victim by my hands in my service to Voldemort.

Next


	3. 

Chapter Two Harry's POV 

When I open my eyes, I first think I'm in heaven. An easy mistake with the moving clouds on the walls and ceiling together with the sunlight beaming into the room from behind me. That, and the fact that the floor around me consists of some sort of fluffy, soft and pleasurably warm material in white. It looks like a mist covers the floor. But then, I sit up and find that I have been lying on a bed covered with a white down quilt, a gorgeous ferret like creature (just a lot fluffier with a longer tail, like some sort of angora ferret with a three feet tail) cuddled next to me. When it senses that I have moved, it squeaks and runs up my body to perch itself on my shoulder, wrapping its long tail around my thin torso.

I smile at that, and softly pet it while wondering where Snape possibly can be. Moreover, where I am. I seem to remember I made a very believable impression of a zombie when we got here last night, and didn't see or hear anything. Flying on a broom for almost thirteen hours tends to do that to you. Especially Snape it seems. It had been priceless seeing his expression after almost running into the side of the ravine. He had taken it a lot better than I would've thought, even smiling at himself. It made me loosen up more to him than words ever could have done. 

Then suddenly, I hear a knock and a door opens up in the wall opposite of me, revealing Severus, clad in worn jeans and a black tee sporting the word 'Slytherin' in silver on the chest, a sad smile on his uncharacteristically gentle expression.

"Good morning, Harry" he softly said. "I see you've met Honey."

I frown. Honey? Who's Honey?

He must have seen my expression, because he chuckles and points at the creature on my shoulder. I smile embarrassedly and look down.

"How come you have a creature like her?" I ask, still not trusting this changed Snape completely, but definitely confidant enough to express myself around him. After all, if he's all right with me smiling at him, he can't freak out because I'm talking to him, right?

A strange noise sounds and I look up, just in time to catch a sad and ashamed, not to mention guilty, expression flashing over Snape's face. Something is wrong.

"She belonged to me when I was a child" he finally says. "I was going to give him to my child one day, but it's impossible now."

He looks up, not quite managing to smile. The serious expression on his face is close enough to his teacher one to make me shudder. I am right. Something _is_ wrong. Something has happened here, something bad. I can feel it in my very bones.

"It's breakfast," Snape abruptly says. "Just tap the wall beside the door and you'll find your belongings. Please dress and come down."

I nod, still stunned by Snape's violent reaction to my innocent question, automatically reverting to silent mode again. I'm also pondering the fact he told me he couldn't give Honey to his child. Even as he's ancient for someone in my age (Sirius told me he is thirty-six, the same age as Snape) it's common knowledge that men can still produce children at that age. He should be able to give Honey to his child yet.

I decide to put the matter on the shelf for a while, mostly for the reason that I'm really hungry. Therefore, I did what Snape asked me to do. Imagine my surprise when I find myself staring at a wardrobe filled with mugglecloths in my size. A true novelty after only wearing Dudley's cloths for so long. Another side to the spectrum that is Snape.

Choosing quickly, I grab a pair of jeans and a simple, emerald tee with a dragon to go with them and dress quickly. Then I open the door and step out into the reality. Or rather onto a balcony leading around the huge living room below. A living room, which differently to what one could believe isn't decorated in silver and green, but midnight blue and white. It is inviting and light, furnished with a couch with a matching, small table by an open fireplace and small groups of comfortable armchairs and tables scattered over the rest of the room.

Ten feet away from me, I can see a staircase leading down to it, in dark, polished wood. And as Snape told me to come down, I do as he asked. I don't want to irritate him in any way. Irritation leads to anger, and anger leads to consequences I most likely won't like. It doesn't help much though, since Snape isn't in the living room. Deciding to test the doors, I find that the closest door leads outside and so can't lead to Snape. Therefore, I test one to my right and find a spacious office. The third door I try, lead outside too, but to a beautiful inside garden. On the other side though, I can see the kitchen. With Snape inside, preparing something. So, I carefully make my way through the garden and open the door on the other side.

"Severus?" I question, remembering his plea for me to use his given name this summer.

He jumps slightly, whirling around to look at me. The expression in his face shows surprise and not so little confusion.

"And why, Harry, did you come that way" he asks, an amused look now in his face "when there's a staircase leading here?"

Apparently, he's in a good mood again. I look questioningly at him. I didn't see any staircase leading to the kitchen. Snape sighs and turns to the stove to ease the pan off the plate as its contents started to burn. While he does that, a little whirlwind of fur come from nowhere, running up my body. Surprised, I let out a small cry, making Snape jump for the second time this day. But when he turns around, he's smiling.

"There's no use leaving her alone" he tells me, a soft, quiet laughter in his voice. "She'll just find you again. And when it comes to the staircase, you'll have to call out the name of the area you want to descend to. This house is built in two parts, with no inside connection between the two of them, you see. Hence a magic staircase to keep them connected."

I nod foolishly. I should have seen that a wizard lives in a wizard's cottage. Of _course_ the staircase can move.

"But you couldn't know that" Snape continues to my surprise.

He seems to have seen the face I made, because he smirks at me, but not in the way he used to. This smirk is more, harmless. You couldn't help but see he don't mean anything with it. Then he gestures to my left, making me aware of the table littered with food.

"Breakfast" he says, grinning slightly. "And if you eat enough, you'll get to ask all those questions I can see you want to ask."

Needless to say, I dive onto the table. As I am both hungry and curious about this whole situation, this is great. Snape follows me too, but not as quickly. He sits down across of me, watching while I eat and sipping on some strange liquid, which is neither tea nor coffee. 

It's easily the strangest breakfast I've ever eaten. Meat, bread and butter were mixed with carrots, salad and apples, making up a very balanced meal if I ever got the human body's need for nutrition down right. If I hadn't eaten it, I would never even have guessed that Snape knew how to eat healthy. But I can't eat for all eternity, and when I finally put down my glass, Severus gives me a slightly amused grin, one of the things that make these two days so strange.  

"A promise is a promise," he says. "Ask away, Harry."

I smile nervously. Even though I'm not sure about this new Snape, I want, no _need_ answers.

"Well," I say, hesitant to ask. "Why are you so nice to me? I mean…"

I trail off. Snape sighs and put down his cup to look me squarely in the eyes.

"To do that, boy, to answer that question" he seriously says "I have to bring up some not too nice memories for both you and me."

I silently nod.

"I think I need to know," I carefully say, trying to look less desperate than I am.

"So do I," is his only response.

_Sev's POV_

It feels bizarre, sitting in my kitchen, watching a boy like Harry watching me, my old pet Honey on his shoulder. And it feels strange to smile without feeling guilty for it, to let the self I've buried deep inside as a punishment show itself. Because here in my home, the shadow of the old Severus Snape remains to watch me from the past. The Death Eater and one of Voldemort's closest men, one of the most vicious men at that time. Not to mention it feels strange being the person I am and not the shielded act I do at Hogwarts, especially together with someone like Harry.

He knows what he needs answers to, I have to give him that. But I don't know how to answer. Because when I do that, I will have to reveal things. Things that neither Harry nor I want to examine closer.

"I'm an orphan, and I have been one since I was a small child."

That isn't the prelude I had planned to use. Judging from the startled look on Harry's face though, it is as good as any.

"My parents, Duncan and Zahrah Snape, died when I was six months old, or so people tell me. Apparently, they had gone to visit an old friend, Riddle, leaving me with a babysitter. They never returned. However, differently from you, I didn't grow up with relatives. I grew up at an orphanage. The same orphanage that once held Tom Riddle. And they treated me and everyone else there, just about the same way as the Dursleys treats you. Like a freak that didn't deserve to exist."

It hurt thinking about it, even as it is long past, long forgotten in history. But at the same time, it feels nice having someone to talk to. And Harry listens. I can see it in his eyes, read it in his posture. He cares. And now, he also starts to understand.

"I think that's a big part of why I hated you. The fact that I disliked James has really nothing to do with it. It was the fact that while you was fostered by rich relatives in a beautiful house, I was fostered at a terrible orphanage with no one to love me, even though our lives had been so similar until then."

And within his eyes, I can finally see what I should have seen from the beginning. Resentment over how his relatives treated him. Realization that he was no freak and that no one had the right to call him that. And last but not least, understanding of the situation, his history and me. It makes me think it was worth bringing all this pain to the surface again.

"The Dursleys didn't love me," he says suddenly, his voice tight and controlled; yet shaking with emotions. "They hated me, still hates me."

"I know" I silently reply. "Now. I finally understood that last summer when I came to fetch you. You lived in hell, not the paradise I placed you in. And that was the beginning to the change. I couldn't just leave you there, facing those appalling people. Already when I got back to Hogwarts I made a deal with Dumbledore to take care of you this summer."

"Thank you" Harry softly replies. "It means more than you know."

And I can read in his voice that he realizes what I do for him. I nod slightly, startled to find tears rolling down my cheeks, just as they do on his. With a swift movement, I move towards Harry and am met in the middle, meeting him in a warm hug, so much needed for both of us. I have managed to break down another wall and in this moment, nothing is between us. 

His thin body feels so fragile against mine, and I am not bulky by any means. Now I know why, but he doesn't really know why _I _am so thin, why I steadily loose weight. But he doesn't need to know. Even if he wonders. Maybe I'll tell him some day, about my family. Not today though. I'm not ready yet. For he is not the only one with past ghosts.

Instead, I let myself relish in the hug, finding the comfort I so badly need. And in that moment, I know that I might still have a chance to have a family again. Maybe…

_Harry's POV_

I understand why he disliked me so much now. I really do. Nevertheless, I wish I had known earlier, maybe then, I could've helped him, made him understand. Because I feel that this is the first time, he lets himself grieve. As it is the first time, I do the same. But because of a whole other reason. This is the first time I realize I have the right to grieve.

To loose one's parents is a horrible thing. Probably even more so when you knew them. So, in that way, both Severus and I have it easier, if you can call it that. Yet, both of us grew up under horrible circumstances. Him at the orphanage, me with the Dursleys. I would wish neither to no one.

He is thinner than I thought. But maybe it isn't so strange. I would get sick to my stomach too if I had to meet Voldemort so often as this man do. Yet, I can sense there's something else behind it. Something he isn't telling me. I don't blame him for it. This revelation is only one step of many, but an important such.

I feel him hugging me closer and I do the same, wetting his shirt with my tears. Somehow, I feel close to him in a way I don't even feel with Sirius. Maybe, it is because I've known him longer, but I don't think so. My thought is that it's rather the similarities between our upbringings. We understand how it feels growing up without love and it makes us closer.

With that, I don't mean I don't love Sirius, because I do. And I don't mean I love Severus either. I do not completely trust the man yet after all. I just mean we understand each other in a way Sirius and I never can. But it would be even greater if Sirius could be a part of this too.

Living with the Dursleys constantly reminding me about my parents' demise, I grew accustomed to thinking that my chance at having a family was lost forever. Now, I know it's not. But I still wish Severus would tell me what's really bothering him… However, this is not something I have the right to worry about yet. Because even as we are beginning to get closer, to trust each other, there's still a long road before us. But I could come to love this man, to trust him. And I truly hope I will.

Next


	4. 

**Chapter Three**

_Sev's POV_

After that genuine scene in the kitchen, I bring him outside. Moreover, if my plans go right, he will be just there the most of the summer. He needs sunlight, and that very badly. However, I do not want him to be in any danger because of that. And the home of a Death Eater isn't the least dangerous place you can hide in, even if a spell warning you of people Apparating in, flying in or flooing in, is woven around the house. People visit, and not only when you are expecting them. Voldemort himself has been here on surprise visits.

"Harry?" 

He stops in his path before me, turning around in the sunlight, a questioning look on his face.

"Yes, Severus?" he replies.

Severus. Now he calls me Severus. The first time he does so. I don't know quite what it will mean for our relationship, but. I would never have thought that such a small thing could make me so happy. Nevertheless, it does, filling me with a contentment I haven't felt since the time I finally managed to betray Voldemort and turn to good again. However, I'm not sure I deserve it. Not after what I have done.

I reach into my pocket, grabbing the thin chain with a clear crystal hanging from it. When it dangles in the air, reflecting the sunlight, it looks like the most precious of diamonds. And it is precious – at least to me. It's the only thing I have left from my family, the only thing they have given me but this house and Honey.

"Wear this."

I'm surprised at the roughness my voice holds. It sounds like I'm just about to cry. But I am not, am I? This piece of rock means a lot to me, and for me, the act of leaving it to another being is very serious. Nevertheless, it has to be done.

"It will protect you" I can hear my voice explain. "It looks after you, even when you doesn't want it to. Even if you don't know you're in danger. And not always in life threatening situations, but in small matters you will easily ignore. Wear it always."

I hold it out to him, surprised when he doesn't take it immediately. Instead, he scans my face, as if watching for something. Damn, this kid is too perceptive for his own good.

"Are you sure about this?"

His voice is soft, almost not audible, but filled with hesitation. Somehow, he has once again noticed my feelings. Because I don't think it's about lack of trust. Harry has always had good instincts.

"I can take care of myself," he continues. "I don't need this to stay alive."

I can't help but snort at this. Maybe he wouldn't need it facing Voldemort (he always seems to get away unscathed from him), but he _would_ need it in every other situation. That boy could stumble into trouble even if he is just walking down to his common room. But instead of trying to argue with him, I close the distance between us, yank him closer and hang the crystal around his neck while muttering a locking charm – and a very complicated such too.

"There" I say, true satisfaction in my voice. "Now you're caught."

His eyes widens a little, but not in panic or fright as I would've thought. I mean, if I just had a necklace put on me with an unbreakable locking spell by my nasty, ex-evil teacher turned nice, I would freak out. But Harry just showed his individuality by looking surprised and slightly thankful. And suddenly, I find myself shuffling his hair and smiling. I'm definitively abandoning the shield I usually carry.

_Harry's POV_

One month has gone by since I first arrived now, and I find myself having one of the best times of my life. Severus and I are beginning to _really_ like each other (still platonic, folks), finding ourselves enjoying each other's company at most times. Sometimes, he seems to have a relapse though, snapping at me. And always in reference to his past. He can see a simple article, just step into the room he gave neither or me. It's spooky. I want to help him so much, but I cannot do that, as he won't tell me. Nevertheless, the still tightening bond between us makes me hurt too.

At first, I had problems accepting the new him, but those doubts were put aside when he needed help. I am not one to refuse to help anyone, even if they do not ask for my help, and that day in the kitchen, he needed my help. If he admits it or not. You don't need to be a genius to see that Severus still carries a lot of weight from his past. And you certainly don't have to look very hard to see that he thinks he deserves it. 

Severus is a whole other person here in his home, compared to who he is at Hogwarts. In addition, I get the feeling it isn't just the fact that he can't make Voldemort suspicious. He don't want to be seen, he don't want to be approached. He cloaks himself in loneliness, and thinks its just fair for him to be alone and miserable after having done whatever horrible deeds he did as a Death Eater. I think the only ones who have managed to break through that façade are Dumbledore and I really. Nevertheless, if I can, I will help others to do the same. No one needs to be lonely. No one _should _be. Voldemort may not even have turned out the way he did, if he hadn't been forced to grow up in an orphanage. But then again, it's not an excuse. You _can_ make a turn for the better or be good from the beginning. Just look at Severus and me.

Once a week, approximately, he leaves by Apparating. Always after gripping his arm in blinding pain. I don't know if he knows that I know, but it's obvious he goes to Voldemort at those occasions. It's his luck I know he does it for Dumbledore, because when he gets back, he's usually shaking and completely gone. One of the backsides to the Cruciatus curse. I make a point of waiting up for him, in company of Honey, having a healing potion on the stove for his return. He certainly needs it. When he has drunken it, I get him into bed and hug him goodnight. Then I spend the night in a chair beside him, listening to his every breath and waking him up every other hour to give him more of the potion.

He never talks of these nights, but I know he's thankful. After the first night, he even decided to tutor me in potions. Outside of course. He seems to have a thing for keeping me outside. Personally, I think he believes I'm too pale. Or was, at least. I've acquired a tan these days and not even one sunburn. That crystal he gave me sure can nag sometimes.

Today is the day after one of the nights with Voldemort. We're sitting outside in the sun, him reading while I am preparing a potion by the name of 'Calaesumbora', supposedly meant to be spilled on your skin to reveal if you've had an Unforgivable curse put on you the last two days. He hasn't told me, but I have the feeling this isn't potion making suitable for someone my age, but someone much older. Same old Severus. I can't help but smile for myself while slowly stirring the potion. He still has troubles acknowledging when I've done something right.

Then, suddenly, a bell tolls from somewhere within the house, startling Severus and sending Honey off into hiding. Severus jumps to his feet and gives me a sharp look.

"Hide" is his only word, and lead by the crystal, I run into a shrubbery, throwing myself to my stomach on the ground. And in the next second, I can see two dark robed figures practically storming out of the house. 

At least one of them is. The other one has a tight grasp on the first one, trying to slow him down. When they come closer, I almost jump up from sheer surprise, but subdue myself. It is Sirius, in a black mood suiting his surname, and a much calmer Remus Lupin, who has a slightly apologetic expression on his face.

Severus is standing proudly in the middle of the flower-decorated lawn, and differently from them; he wears a white tee and a pair of slacks. It has to be said that he don't even flinch as Sirius grabs him by his neck, a murderous look on his face.

"Where is he?" he roars. "If you have hurt him any way…"

Severus roughly takes his hands from his neck and steps backwards.

"In safety, Black" he coldly says. "Unlike what he would be with you."

Sirius' face gets even redder, and his knuckles whiten as he tries to keep from punching the man in front of him. I tense, desperately trying to keep Sirius from flaring up more. However, I didn't need to worry, as Remus steps between them, hindering every chance at a fistfight.

"Calm down, Sirius" he harshly says before turning to Severus, speaking in a softer tone. "We just came to visit Harry. Dumbledore told us that he would be here."

Severus nods, a slight smirk on his face.

"Of course" he says, and then turns away, facing me.

Now, I can see that he has a slightly pained expression on his face, undoubtedly; one of his wounds has gone up, together with a strange sense of worry. I can't get why though, as I know that he certainly does not fear either Sirius or Remus. Unasked, I get up, dusting some dirt off my tee and cut jeans, walking over to the three of them, grabbing the cup with the healing potion I have waiting by my cauldron. 

The expressions on Remus' and Sirius' faces are hilarious. Especially Sirius'. Did they really expect me to be beaten and tired or something? Well, I _am_ tired, but that's not the point, is it?

I stop as I come to Severus, silently handing him the cup. He gives me a slight smile and a faint 'thank you', which causes some strangled noises to come from Sirius. I touch his arm in a reassuring way, and then turn to Sirius and Remus, a bright smile on my face.

"Sirius!" I exclaim, hugging my godfather warmly.

"Harry" he affectionately replies, hugging me back.

Then he holds me at an arm's length, looking squarely at me.

"How is _he_" he nods towards Severus "treating you? Are you alright?"

I look at Severus, shooting him a smile. He looks much better now, talking slightly with Remus.

"Severus' treating me great" I carefully assure him. "He's been helping me with potions."

Sirius lets me go, a relieved look on his face. He has cut his hair off into a shoulder length cut now and has gained some much needed weight. In my opinion, I think he doesn't even look like the Sirius Black whom fled from Azkaban.

"You have resolved your issues then?" he asks.

I nod. That we certainly have. It was awkward in the beginning, but now we have reached a state where we live as family. The trust and affection is still fragile between us, but it's growing stronger every day. 

"Yeah, why?" I reply.

Sirius glance at Severus and Remus, then takes me outside their hearing range.

"I think it's time you know why Severus Snape and I detest each other so much" he softly says. "You will need to know it, believe me, if you're going to spend the summer with him."

Then he smirks.

"Does he still run into that ravine when coming here?" he asks.

"Yes" I grin. "It looks hilarious. How did you know?"

Sirius sobers up, looking at me, a sad look in his dark eyes, so much like Severus'.

"My mother, was the sister of Snape's mother," he slowly says. "As we were hidden by the Fidelius Charm when my aunt and her husband died, we could not take care of Severus. That's the reason he despises me. The reason I despise _him_, is that he was the one who betrayed my parents by finding out who was their secret keeper. Like some sort of revenge."

I stare at him, perplexed by what he has revealed. Severus and Sirius, cousins? But somehow, it makes sense. And it sure explains, the hostility they hold against each other.

"You know he has changed" I say looking into Sirius eyes. "I know _you_ has changed. Can't you two just see beyond the mutual loathing you created so long ago, and settle this? None of you could do anything about the situation back then."

"I know" Sirius says, dragging his hands through his hair in a very Severus-ish way. "But forgiveness has to go both ways."

You can see they're cousins. In some ways, they're remarkably alike.

"What?" Sirius asks, as he catches me smiling.

I shake my head, still smirking slightly.

"Severus does that all the time," I tell him.

Sirius gives me a strange look.

"You really like him now, don't you?" he frankly says. "Now when you have seen past the animosity you held against each other."

_Sev's POV_

¨That boy is an angel. I don't know how to tell him, how much I appreciate what he does for me, after my meetings with Voldemort. Not only him watching over me, and making the healing potion I need (I'm still wondering where he found the recipe), but also the feel of being human, he gives me through a simple hug.

I quickly swallow the pleasantly cool potion in the summer heat, feeling it running through my body, taking away the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse. He has seasoned it with mint and blueberry this time, giving it a winterish flavour.

"Severus?"

It is Remus of course. Who else would talk to me of their free will?

"Yes, Remus?" 

I'm surprised, how tired my voice sounds. But then again, I _am_ very tired. And if _I_ am tired, I don't want to think about how tired Harry must be, after having watched over me all night.

"Why would you need a potion, meant to heal the after-effects from the Cruciatus curse?"

Damn the werewolf and his knowledge of potions!

"Voldemort wasn't too pleased with me yesterday" I pleasantly reply, hoping to get a reaction out of the imperturbable Remus.

"Why?" is his only response though.

Sigh. I guess Dumbledore told him.

"Because I hadn't found out why Harry isn't with the Dursleys this year, and where he is," I simply say.

Remus just arches his eyebrows.

"That wouldn't make him too happy, no," he agrees. "Do you think Sirius is finished with Harry yet?"

I glance at the pair, standing quite a bit away, Harry having an amused look on his face as Sirius talks. Undoubtedly, Sirius has told him about our relation. He didn't seem to have anything against it though.

"Yes" I decide and start to walk over to them, arriving just as Sirius asks Harry a question.

"You really like him now, don't you?" he says, an understanding tone to his voice. "Now when you have seen past the animosity you held against each other."

Harry has already seen me approaching, and is looking into my eyes, as if he can see my soul.

"No, Sirius" he softly says, almost too low for me to hear.

That little word crushes me for some reason I can't understand. It feels as if a small knife is stabbed through my heart, causing an allergic reaction. But then, he continued.

"I love him like a dad. He may not be my father, but in these weeks, he has been my dad in every way possible."

Next


	5. 

**Chapter Four**

_Harry's POV_

Now I know what the word 'scared' means. Not 'frightened' or 'petrified', but 'scared'. As in the lesser component in fear. And I can't say I like it very much. I can't believe I just burst it out. I mean, I just said it right out, 'I love you like my dad, Severus'. Not exactly in those words, but the essence was the same.

A few hours have gone by since then, but we haven't gotten the chance to talk since then, as Sirius and Remus are still here. They are in the library for the moment, talking with Severus. Probably about Voldemort or something else they think I shouldn't hear about. But I'm fifteen darn it, soon sixteen. I won't die because I heard the word 'kill'. But do they listen to me? No.

So here I am, sitting in the cloud room, which is mine, reading a book Severus recommended me. 'The potions of Karol Mikerskij'. It lists a bunch of really weird potions you can make from very simple and common ingredients. And despite what one may think, it's actually interesting. I think I will test one at Malfoy when I have arrived back at Hogwarts, maybe the one that makes your skin glow with a sickish green colour. It could be fun to see his reaction.

Suddenly, I hear the faint sound of bells, signalling that Remus and Sirius have Apparated away. Driven by an urge to stall the talk with Severus I know is coming, I dive under the covers and start pretending to be asleep. Not far afterwards, Severus opens the door and looks at me.

"Harry?" he whispers. "You're awake?"

Trying to breath easily, I neglect to answer. Severus sighs and patters into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Strangely gently, he pushes my bangs out of my face, lingering on my cheek.

"What shall I do with you, Harry?" he whispers dejectedly. "I can't be a dad for anyone, I don't deserve it. Especially not to you. You're the Boy Who Lived, you deserve someone better than I."

A faint whisper suggests that he shakes his head, and then the weight next to me diminishes as he raises and walks back to the door. But before he closes it behind him, he utters one more sentence, the one I so badly want to hear.

"I love you too, Harry," he whispers. "And I truly wish that you were my son."

_Sev's POV_

It is well past midnight, and I still sit in my living room, watching the flames play in the open fire. My mind still can't get off that wave of bliss it's riding, hearing that Harry loves me and him calling me 'dad'. A word I thought no one would say to me after that fateful day seventeen years ago. And I sure as hell don't deserve it. Not after what I did.

A log falls down, drowning the sound of bare feet on the floor. So, I am surprised when a warm hand, rough from the work it has been forced to do in such a young age, is placed on my shoulder.

"Want to talk about it?"

He knows. But how can he? No one but Dumbledore knows, and he won't betray my trust like this. I must have looked nervous, because Harry hugs me from behind, sliding down next to me in the white couch.

"No one has told me" he softly assures me. "But I can sense there's something you're not telling me. Something important, something you feel strongly about. Your eyes get so guilty, so ashamed sometimes, so burdened with sorrow."

This adolescent is really smart. There's no use denying it. There's no use not telling him. He has to know, he has the right to know.

"It all began seventeen years ago."

My voice seems lifeless to me, unemotional. But I certainly don't feel that way. It hurt talking, hurt thinking. I don't want to.

"Four years after graduation, I had married another witch from Beauxbaton, Niamh Lind. The most beautiful blonde with the sunniest smile on earth. We had two children together, four year old Alisha with the blue eyes and a baby boy, Donal. We lived together in just this cottage, and we were happy. Niamh wrote books about gardening here at home, and I had a well-paid job at Hogwarts, teaching DADA. But then, everything changed.

"I guess you can say I fell into the wrong crowd, but that wouldn't be completely true. Instead, I would rather say that I was curious about Voldemort, who was a great wizard according to my good friend Lucius, the potions teacher. Because at that time, I didn't know that Tom Riddle and Voldemort was the same man.

"I was young then, I was power hungry as most are at that age. So I couldn't see anything wrong in wanting to be one of Voldemort's accomplices. And it was during this time, I told Lucius that I knew who was Sirius Black's and his parents' secret keeper. Because I knew Voldemort wanted to get a hold of them – or as I know now– kill them. That information became my ticket into Voldemort's closest circle.

"I became a Death Eater. Seduced by the power Voldemort had shown me, I didn't want anything but it. I stopped caring about other people, about my family. My wife was a 'mudblood' after all, a 'weak' wizard. But I allowed her to live; she had bore me children after all.

"That peace was shattered the day I came home to find the wife of an Auror, Arabella Figg, talking to my wife. I freaked out, killing my wife with the Avada Kedavra. Then I placed the Cruciatus curse on my daughter who'd been with me and turned to take care of Figg. But she had evidently grabbed my baby and disappeared, because she was gone. In rage, I increased the strength of the curse until blood poured out of her. She died shortly after that, her last words being 'daddy'. But I didn't care. I just left the bodies where they were, and went back to my lord.

"My service with him didn't end until he one day confided in me that his name once had been Tom Riddle. I managed to keep my façade up, but as soon as I was out of there, I broke down, Apparated to the only father's figure I've ever had, Dumbledore, and told him everything."

I know my face is stony, I know it seems like I don't feel anything about it. But still, I am very much aware of the fact that Harry has grasped my hand, lending me the strength I need to finish my tale. And inside, I am a hurricane of feelings. Guilt, shame, self-blaming, hate. I can't let them out; I've kept them inside for so long. It's like I have been petrified emotionally, like I can feel but not show.

"You're not the person you were then, Severus"

His voice managed to penetrate my misted in brain.

"And who you were before you met Voldemort, isn't whom you were when you saw your family for the last time."

I know he means well, but his words do not help. He don't know how it feels to have killed your family, killed them and taken pleasure it. 

"I understand that you really can't take this right now. I know you believe that this is something you can't be forgiven."

Damn right I can't!

"But then again, you _are_ pigheaded. Yes, it was you who killed your wife and tortured your daughter to death. Yes, it _is _your fault. But only a minor part of you. When you did that deed, you 'were seduced by the dark powers'. The dark arts are poisonous, you know. If you haven't got a truly strong mind, they will slowly take you over. Submitting you to their will."

How does this boy _know_ so much? Because I know no one has told him. Yet, somehow, he takes what I'm feeling inside, grinding it into dust, and shredding it into pieces small enough to live with.

"You are still responsible for what you did in the matter that you _chose_ to join Voldemort. You _chose _to submit into the dark side of magic. But you can't be made responsible for killing your family intentionally. You had as much to say about the matter as one under the Imperius curse."

How can he know this? I can't just stop asking myself this question as he slowly, piece by piece, takes apart my defence. He is almost sixteen, yet emotionally he is much older. Older than me, maybe even Dumbledore.

"I do understand the guilt you're feeling won't leave you alone. I can see that you want to make up for what you have done under Voldemort's influence. But you and I both know that you will never really get away from that guilt. But you can, and you _will_ learn how to live with it, and do the best with the life you have created for yourself after cutting your bonds with Voldemort. Your past is no reason to push people who care for you away. You can make amends by letting those who wants to love you in, so making them content by being content."

I turn to him, staring at him. Now, I can see the tears falling down his cheeks; hear the desperate tone in his voice, begging me to see what he is trying to show me. That he is shaking, fighting for a family which has been promised him these last weeks. Consciously on my part. And frankly, I can't stand seeing anyone go through the hell I did.

Gently, I draw him into my embrace as he cries. Harry Potter may be the Boy Who Lived, but he's also a human being. He may be more adult than most, but he's also a very young orphan. But somehow, I think many people forget to see this fact. Instead, they only choose to see the smart, strong boy who has the ability to fight Voldemort and even defeat him. They neglect to see the human with feelings behind.

In some ways, we are just too much alike. But where his choices are chosen for him, I did mine by myself. As I absently stroke his messy hair, I can't help but think about what he has been telling me. He is right of course, which he almost always has, and I will try to put my past behind me, yet learn from it. It won't be easy, but I will try, for him, but mostly for me. We both need closure in our lives, and I think we are the right persons to give it to each other.

_Harry's POV_

I can't describe the feeling of having a pair of comforting arms around you after being without it for fifteen long years. It's simply heaven, to be held, to be comforted when you haven't had anyone but your fugitive godfather to be there for you before. Even if it is mutual this time. I think Severus needs this just as much I do.

My mind wanders as we sit together, me hugged to his chest, staring into the fire, letting ourselves comfort and be comforted. And for some reason, I keep coming back to one little part of the story he told me.

"Severus?" I softly ask.

He grunts in response, tightening his hold on me.

"What happened with your son? I mean, that lady took him away, didn't she?"

Severus nods behind me, tensing up slightly.

"Arabella Figg" he says. "When I had turned my back on Voldemort, I tried to find him, but failed. Arabella Figg had disappeared off the face of the earth, and with her, my son. I gave up hope of seeing him a long time ago now."

I frown. I know that name. A Mrs Figg used to watch me when I lived with the Dursleys. What if Arabella Figg and Mrs Figg is the same person? My thoughts are interrupted as Severus hesitantly starts to talk to me.

"About what you said before…"

He trails off, seemingly uncertain about the whole thing. I smile a little, deciding to help him onto the right track.

"That I love you and would love to call you my dad'?"

I'm pretty sure he blushed. Or at least it felt that way.

"Yes" he insecurely says. "It would be nice if…I mean…"

I turn around and give him my best smirk.

"Just spit it out already" I tease. "You won't die of it."

Severus laughs and shakes his head.

"Why should I do that when you already know what I'm going to say?" he teases right back.

I pout, hitting him on his shoulder. He gave me a sour look.

"If that's what you want…"

I glare at him.

"Stop teasing me!" I complain.

Severus smirks back at me.

"You started it" he points out, then gets serious. "Potter, I would be proud to call you my son."

I smile back.

"Well, I would be proud to be called you son" I reply, and then give him a mischievous smile. "Sev."

Next


	6. 

**Chapter Five**

_Harry's POV_

I can't stop thinking about it. Even though I am dead tired after being up with Sev these two last nights, I can't sleep. And it is all because what he said to me. Arabella Figg – Mrs. Figg. Donal, his son whom was lost as a baby. Giving up hope, disappearing off the face of the earth. And hadn't Mrs Figg once mentioned that she had an adopted son?

As I feel the sun rise, I give up on my much-needed sleep. Knowing that Sev is a light sleeper, I can't stay in my room, so I silently sneak out of it, inching past Sev's door. He needs his sleep even if I can't get mine.

When I get to the staircase, I whisper 'the living room' and do what I learnt how to do after the first days here if I didn't want to be heard by everyone within a three miles circumference due to the very loud creaks – slide down the banisters. This way, I get to the bottom floor relatively silently and sneak away into Sev's office. I know he has an owl here, in case he has to send letters (Hedwig I left at Hogwarts when I thought I was going to the Dursleys) and I had decided to send Mrs Figg a letter. If she is the Figg Sev talked about, she will know what to do with the owl. If not, well, nothing's lost here.

I sit down by Sev's desk and look around for parchment and a quill. As the neat freak he is with his work, he has hidden it away somewhere. After some snooping around, I manage to find what I need put away on a shelf behind a silver green drape on the wall. Sigh. One would think he would've stored it on the desk, close to use, but no. He puts it in on a shelf behind a drape.

Still a little annoyed, I sit down and start to brush off my best letter writing skills. 

_"Mrs Arabella Figg!_

_It has come to my attention that you held an important part in an event many years ago. As this event concerns a dear friend of mine, I write to ask of you a meeting to discuss this event. I would greatly appreciate if you could take some of your precious time to send a response to me by owl at your earliest convenience._

_Most reverent, Harry Potter." _

I stare at the letter. Not the best ever written, but it would have to do. Nervously, I stare at the huge eagle owl sitting at its perch, watching me unnervingly.

"Can you take this to Mrs Figg at Privet Drive in Surrey?" I ask, not sure what to expect from the unusually big bird.

But it seems to be non-violent, because it just chirps and hold out its leg for me. I exhale, relieved, and attach the letter. Then I silently watch as the owl flies away, only to be attacked by a _very_ noisy little Honey.

"Calm down!" I whisper furiously at her. "Sev's asleep you know!"

"Not anymore."

I whirl around, finding myself eye to eye with a bleary-eyed, very annoyed Severus Snape.

"Sev!" I exclaim. "You're awake!"

"How clever of you to notice the obvious" his voice is still sarcastic, but his face softened remarkably at the name 'Sev'. "Now, may I ask why you're still up?"

I hang my head.

"I can't sleep," I admit. "So much has happened today. I decided to just write Ron to get my mind cleared up."

Sev smiles at me and put his arm around my free shoulder.

"Then let's try now" he says. "Because I'm sure you are tired. I know _I_ am. If you still can't sleep, you should know how to make a sleeping potion by now."

I nod and let my newly acquired dad lead me up the stairs to my room. Because I know I will sleep now when I've done what I can to find Donal.

*****

The owl arrives three days later when I am busy picking herbs for my potions in the forest. It is a small tawny owl and so, the bright red parchment it carries stands out well. Landing on my shoulder, it nips my ear as it waits for me to take my letter.

Obeying, I put down my basket and unattach it, intending to seat myself on a nearby sunny stone, but the crystal Sev gave me immediately starts to tell me to look out for vipers. Apparently, he has forgotten to tell it I'm a parselmouth. So, mostly to get it to stop talking, I hiss to any potential snake to keep away. Then I open my letter.

_"Harry!_

_Why so formal? I've known you since you were a toddler after all. You sound like some old buffer who went to Oxford or something. Write normally the next time._

_About your friend, of course we can meet. Just write and tell me where to find you and I'll Apparate there within an hour. My owl Copper here is bred especially for fast delivery._

_Mrs Figg (Arabella)"_

I've gotten the right lady. No use of denying that. Arabella Figg has always been very frank. Scribbling down my answer with a conveniently attached quill, I send Copper away again, then resume my herb collecting, keeping close to the ruins Sev calls 'the Gingerbread House', as it were the location I had given her.

I am just carefully digging up the roots of some sort of orchid when I hear a well-known voice calling my name.

"Harry, where are you?"

I look up in the general direction of the ruins, but can't see her because of the great pine next to me.

"I'm here, behind the big pine!" I yell back as I reach for the brush I use to get rid of the dirt.

Soon, I hear soft steps coming towards me, and within minutes, I can see the slim and fitted Mrs Figg weave her way towards me through the thick vegetation. I look up briefly from my work and smile at her.

"I'll just finish this," I tell her.

Mrs Figg grins at me, studying the herbs I have already collected.

"What in the world are you making?" she wonderingly asks. "I can't remember making _any_ potion with these herbs _ever_ in school."

"You shouldn't have" I reply, carefully picking the thin threads off the main root to the newly picked orchid. "I think it's advanced extra study for 7th years. I'm not sure though, Sev just gives me the recipe, goes over it with me and then leaves me to be. This one's supposed to heal you – not like the normal healing potions though, but by mixing with your blood stream, speeding up your heart for a few seconds and heal all damaged tissue it passes by congealing and becoming a part of your body. It's just specifically for damage made by extensive amounts of the Cruciatus. This is the first time I've picked the ingredients myself, but I've done the potion so many times I can do it blindfolded."

Mrs Figg is staring at me, a pensive look on her face.

"You're living with Severus," she states.

I rise after putting down my root in the basket and look squarely at her. 

"Yes" I calmly admit. "He told me of his life. From that, you should see the reason you're here by yourself."

Mrs Figg sighs and sits down on a stone, a very weary look on her face.

"Donal" she simply says. "You know where I was, differently from Severus."

I nod.

"Why didn't you answer his owls?" I gently wonder, sitting down in the sun-dried moss, looking at her.

She shook her head.

"I wasn't sure about which side he belonged to," she slowly says. "Sure, I heard rumours that he was now a spy for our side from my good friend Minerva McGonagall, but I had no way of making sure of it. And I won't leave Donal with a Death Eater. As I haven't been able to keep updated with the wizard's world."

It is explainable. Knowing the inhabitants of Privet Drive, it isn't hard to see that she wouldn't have been trusted the way she had if owls had been circling her house every day.

"How can I convince you?" I simply say.

The old lady shakes her head.

"No need to "she tells me. "I know Dumbledore wouldn't trust you to anyone questionable in any way."

I smile inwardly at that. That sentence certainly is wrong in some ways. The Dursleys isn't exactly what you would call an exemplary foster family. If you weren't a supporter of slavery of course.

"Does he know about his father?"

A very important question. I, if anyone, should know that. And Mrs Figg nods.

"I've told him everything," she admits. "And even though he can't remember Severus, he wants to meet the man who fathered him so he can have a chance to be with his birth family. He seems to understand that the Severus who murdered his mother and sister wasn't really his father. He is far trustier than I am, already when Severus started teaching again, he wanted to meet him. I held him back though."

Maybe if she hadn't, a lot would've been different now. But then again, maybe not for good. You shall not play with history. One of the main things I've learned about tampering with time.

"He's eighteen now, isn't he?" I casually ask, even if I am terribly curious about the boy Sev had fathered. "Is he a wizard, has he gone to any wizard school?"

Mrs Figg chuckles at my sudden outburst of questions.

"Yes, he's eighteen" she tells me. "And he graduated from Durmstrang this spring."

I raise my eyebrows. Durmstrang? The poor guy had to be half frozen to death. But then again, Durmstrang is famous for its successful DADA teaching (or rather the opposite) and it is understandable as his father had been a Death Eater.

"That's good," I simply say. "He should know how to take care of himself that way."

I move to take my basket.

"Do I have your blessing then, to speak with Donal about reuniting with his father?"

Mrs Figg seems to be taken with my sudden use of formal language but ignore it.

"Of course, Harry" she says. "If you can floo to my house tomorrow, I'll see to you meet."

I nod and start to walk towards my summer home.

"See you tomorrow then"

*****

I talk to Sev this evening about it. Or rather I ask for permission to visit a wizard friend the next day over a magically created and disgustingly healthy dinner. I swear, Sev's trying to turn me into some athlete with all the health food, outdoors exercise and Quidditch training he's been giving me since I arrived.

Anyway, Sev gives his permission. I mean, why wouldn't he? Especially as he has to go to another meeting with Voldemort too. Now, _that_ part, I don't like. It is tearing me up inside having to watch him return from those meetings with Voldemort as a wreck. Suddenly, I am very thankful that I have been out picking the ingredients for his healing potion.

Next morning, I can't help myself, but hug him before he leaves for the meeting. Because I know how hard this is for him. Especially as I've heard his story. So, I take my time to spend time with him before he leaves, trying to lend him some of my strength.

I'm standing by the open fire, groping around in the urn on the shelf next to the fire for some floo powder. Then I throw it into the fire, watching the flames flicker and change colour. And so, after taking a calming breath, I step into the fire.

"Arabella Figg's home, Privet Drive!" I call out as clearly as I can.

So, the nauseating and very bumpy ride begins. I close my eyes and try to think about something else. I truly hate travelling this way. Hate it, hate it, hate it… The floo powder kicks me out of the network, making me stumble into the cat smelling living room of Mrs Arabella Figg. And so, I find myself eye to eye to a tall, black-haired and green-eyed adolescent waiting for me on the couch. He doesn't look a bit like me though. His hair is longer, his eyes paler and his skin more golden. Then, there is the fact that he isn't as skinny as I am (even as the diet Sev has put me on is starting to show some results, I think). He rather looked like his father.

"Harry Potter"

His voice is not like Sev's though. It's more melodic. He doesn't hold the same ability to speak quietly and yet being heard through the highest screams his father has. Well, I have it too. Mainly because I'm a parselmouth. Snakes can't scream after all. They hiss.

"It's great to finally meet you"

He's smiling mischievously at me. And he's not staring at my scar. Which I'm very thankful for.

"Thank you" I smile back. "You must be Donal."

"Yes" Donal replies, a confused look on his face. "And thank you for what?"

That made me grin. It is hard for people to understand how it feels having everyone staring at you all the time.

"For not staring" I clarify. "It's very annoying. I can't see why everyone's trying to idolize me because of something I didn't even rule over."

He shrugs and grins.

"You're welcome then" he grins. "And I can see you point. Personally, I'm more impressed of how you manage to take everything life throws at you without getting snotty. And by the way you handle a broom. I saw you at the Triwizard's Championships. Viktor actually said you're as talented as he, maybe more."

I frown.

"Krum's one of your friends?" I ask. "He has to be one or two years older than you."

Donal nods.

"Yes" he answers. "I'm in the Quidditch team as well."

Quidditch. There's a word for sore eyes.

"Which position?" I curiously ask.

"Beater" he answers with a grin just as infatuated as mine. "I've been in the team since I was twelve." 

"Eleven" I tell him. "Our deputy headmistress McGonagall caught me as I fetched a sphere a rival of mine, Draco Malfoy, had thrown away after taking it from a friend of mine on our first flying lesson."

Donal raise his eyebrows.

"You're lucky" he comments.

I shiver.

"I would rather not be," I tell him. "Maybe then, I'd stop running into trouble all the time."

¨Then I get serious.

"Maybe we should talk about what I came for now" I grimly suggests. "I have to be back in a few hours to start preparing a potion."

Donal nods, and I am very thankful for him not asking why I have to prepare a potion. I certainly shouldn't be the one to tell him about that. And as he leads me through the house to something I suspect is his rooms, I ponder where to start.

Next


	7. 

Chapter Six 

Harry's POV

We find ourselves seated in his bedroom, Donal in an armchair, with me on the bed. A silence has settled in the room, as neither of us knows how to start. How do I breech the subject of reuniting with a father he has never known and whom killed and tortured his mother and sister anyway?

"You know my father" Donal finally starts, curiosity tinting his voice. "And before you ask, I know about what he did. I understand that he isn't the person he was when he did those things.  Though I have to admit it's is easier to accept, as I've never known my mother or sister. What I want to know is: what's he like now?"

I look seriously at him. It is a hard question for someone who has seen both his bad and good sides intimately. But I will try to answer that, even as it's hard to find words to describe someone like Sev.

"He's intelligent" I slowly start. "Extremely so. He can see through every lie you can think of, sense if something is wrong. Lethal in both mind and temper.  On the outside, he's sarcastic, cool, and ruthless and he can be surprisingly nasty to the ones he holds grudges against. And that, he can do for a long time, even long after the person in question are dead. Amongst the dead, my father. Amongst the living, not long ago, myself.

"This is part of his personality, but he also has another side he never shows anyone, a side he tries to deny. Because inside, he's human. He can be both scared and nervous, even if he's imperturbable for those looking at him. He's loyal to the end if you are loyal to him. Quick minded, careful and silent, he prefers to watch and protect from afar, and keep out of the spotlight, even if he deserves it. This is mostly because of the shame he holds inside for having been a Death Eater. All the self-hatred, all the disgust. It's only recently, he's begun to come to terms with it at all."

I do not mention the talk I had with him about that. It's too precious, too personal for me to share, even with his son by blood. Donal's listening to me though, I can see it. He's practically soaking up my every word. The way I do when someone talks about my parents. The only difference is that his father is alive and mine are not.

A silent tear fall from my eye. I don't think Donal noticed it though. And for that, I'm happy. I have never really grieved over my parents; let myself accept their absence. Because even as I have two father figures now, in my godfather, in Sev, no one can really take a parent's place. I may not have known them, but I still love them. Just as I love Sirius and Sev.

Too keep from starting to cry, I start talking again. 

"We have made our peace offerings now" I say, my voice thick and heavy under the pressure of my tears. "I have had the privilege to meet the Sev who once was. A humorous, kind and patient man who's a very good cook (AU: don't you dare laugh) and adores his work as a potions teacher, even as he can't help but yearn for the position which was once his."

I will say it now, even though I'm starting to realize what this will mean to our relationship. But I'm doing it for Sev, my 'dad'. For Donal, his son.

"You should meet him," I softly say. "I think you will like each other. And he will be very happy to see you, Donal. He spent years searching for you."

Donal has tears in his eyes, and I can see that he yearns to meet the only parent he has left.

"I want to meet my father," he chokingly says. "As soon as possible. I've wanted to do that for a long time, and now when I'm finally able to…"

I understand the feeling all too well. The tears are becoming stronger now, I have to get away.

"Come to the cottage tomorrow afternoon" I suggest. "He'll be there then."

And he'll recover from the meeting. Donal nods and follows me back to the fireplace. We don't say a word and as I'm once again whirling through the floo network, I let the tears loose, feeling them stream down my cheeks. As I crash into the living room, I don't even bother to try keep my legs upright, but collapse on the floor. I just curl into a ball letting the pain get the best of me. The pain of never knowing my parents, the pain of having my first father's figure on the run. The pain coming from the fear of loosing my second to his real son. And why wouldn't I? Any family I've ever had has either been lost to me or never was a family at all.

Honey has found me now and is trying to console me by cuddling her soft, furry body to mine. It's not helping much, but I'm thankful for the company as the pain I'm feeling just wreaks havoc inside. But even pain has an end. As I sit up, stroking Honey absently while the crystal nags about how I should go to bed and sleep, I glance at the clock Sev has in his living room à la Muggles. I have to begin making the potion now. Emotional pain is nothing to the pain coming from the word 'crucio'. Even as Donal will probably be the one to make the potion in the future, I will not let Sev hurt now. I will do my best for him the time I have left until Donal arrive.

Some time during my crying fit, I have decided what to do. I will make it easier for both Sev and me by leaving as he meets Donal. Sirius will welcome me if I come to visit for the rest of the summer, I know that. And this way, no one but me will be hurt. Next summer, I'll go back to the Dursleys, and I will be forever thankful for the summer I had.

*****

I'm almost asleep when Sev arrives, potion next to me, ready and flavoured with strawberry and raspberry. But as soon as he Apparates into the room, I jerk awake and walk over to him. This time, Voldemort seems to have gone easy at him, he will not need more than one cup of the potion. He's even fit enough to stand on his own as I greet him with a hug and the potion. But something is different and I can feel his eyes watching me all the time.

When we're finally upstairs, I get to know why, as he follows me into my room and look at me as I scramble under the covers. Then he sits down on the edge and look into my eyes with his expressive black ones.

"I can see that you've been crying," he simply says.

Oh no. I haven't thought of that. Stop looking at me like that. If he continues doing this, I know I'm going to break down. I know it.

"Want to tell me why?" he softly continues, refusing to let my eyes go.

I've not felt as trapped like this before, even with Voldemort. Sev just looks at me, asking me to tell him and I'm having a real hard time refusing to.

And so, I break down.

Sev's POV

Relief and happiness is what I feel as I Apparate home and see Harry half asleep on the couch. I' don't think the boy understands how much it worries me when I can't keep an eye on him. How much I care for him. I love him, not only as a son, but also as a very dear friend. He managed to penetrate my shield and now, I don't believe I can let him out again even if I wanted to.

Then, as he comes to give me our ritual hug and the healing potion, I see it. He's been crying. There are swollen, red bags under his eyes, and they scream of the pain he tries to hide inside. Something has happened while I was gone. Something that has brought him back into the state he was in when he left his relatives. Anxiousness and concern are what I feel now as I walk with him up the stairs to our bedrooms. My heart silently pleads with him to tell me what's wrong, but my mind tell me I have to ask. This adolescent boy does not want to burden me; he keeps being as strong as people think he is. Taking on more than his young shoulders can bear.

When he has crept under the cover, I gracefully sit down on the edge of the bed, searching for his eyes. I do not speak for a while after that, just look into his eyes, asking him to tell me what's wrong. First when he refuses, I speak out loud.

"I can see that you've been crying" I simply say, giving him another chance to explain.

He jumps at that, his eyes getting slightly nervous and even more pained. I can see that his shields are breaking. There's just a matter of time.

"Want to tell me why?" I gently ask, letting my feelings show in my voice.

I'm truly worried. I haven't seen him cry one time before coming here, and when here, he's only cried because of me. Which does not make my worry any easier to bear.

"I can't tell you."

I can barely hear his voice. It's so quiet, so heavy with tears. They have started to fall again.

"I want to, but I can't. There's nothing you can do anyway."

Nothing I can do? I ponder, but readily hold him as he cries against my chest. So, I almost miss the words he whispers into my cloths.

"I feel so alone…"

I should've known. But as he said, there's really nothing I can do but try and reassure him that I'm here, that I will _always _be here. That, and hurry up with the plan. But that can wait, I think, as tears are welling up in my eyes as well. I cry a lot these days. But then again, I have not cried nearly enough in my life. But somehow, I know that Harry will be the one to be comforted this night. For now, Harry is in more pain than I am.

Next


	8. 

Chapter Seven 

Sev's POV

All the next day, I have the feeling Harry is only going through the motions. He seems strangely absent and keeps forgetting things as if his head is filled by something else. And he keeps close to me. He spends so much time with me doing things he don't like he seems sick. Maybe it is because of his breakdown yesterday, but somehow, I think not. I rather think he's planning something. Something important he really doesn't want to do, but has to. It worries me. _He_ worries me.

Sometime after another healthy meal made by me, he disappears though, leaving me alone in my potions room. He stays away for half an hour and then, he return, a sad, desperate look on his face and a parchment clutched tightly in his hand.

"Sev?" the word rolls off his lips with a yearning meaning behind it. "Can you come with me? I want to show you something."

I look questioningly at him and nod, pulling the cauldron off the magically created flame. This _has_ to be it. The thing he worries so much about.

He leads me to the stairs and call out 'the living room', creating a weird looking phenomena as the staircase suddenly appears to dive into the floor, down to the living room. But I take no notice of it, used to it as I am, and silently follow him to library door. There we stop, and Harry turns to me and hugs me tightly to him in an almost distressed way. Then he backs away, suddenly blank faced and brave once again.

"Just go through the door and you'll find it."

He's surprisingly calm when he says that, not showing any emotions. But his eyes betray him, screaming out the anguish he truly feels.

"Take this," he says, holding out the folded parchment. "But do not open it until you've entered the library."

And before I'm able to say anything, he opens the door and practically run away, leaving me to stare into the room. There's a young man waiting for me inside. A little over six feet tall, a little shorter than me, and built like a beater. His black hair almost reaches his waist and his skin is as tanned golden as mine. But the fact that captivates me so much is his pale, green eyes. The eyes of his mother. Because he can only be Donal.

There are no words to describe the feeling of seeing him standing there, alive and well, a wondrous expression on his face, so much like his mother. His eyes express the hesitation, the utter joy, the fear of meeting me, and I feel the same thing. We do not know what to do.

"Donal?" I hesitantly say, a tremor in my voice I am not used to having.

He stare at me, then apparently makes a decision.

"Father" he simply states and walks over to me.

We look into each other's eyes a few seconds, trying to read each other's souls. Can we be a family again? Having been apart for all our lives, we may never fully reach the closeness of those who have if we pursue a relationship as a family. But I will fully try if we decide to do that, and I think Donal will too. Because I can sense it in the air, read it in his eyes. We _want _to know each other. And that get us a long way. And if Harry and I became family in only months, Donal and I certainly have a chance too.

I do not know whom of us moved first, but suddenly we hug, happy to finally meet. Happy that we have reached the unspoken decision to try and become a family. Together with Harry.

"It's so great to see you," he hoarsely says. "I've wanted to meet you for so long, it's so…"

Words are not enough for the guilt I feel inside in that moment. What if he doesn't know? What if he hates me? Donal is not Harry, grown beyond his years.

"I'm sorry," I silently say. "I should've been there…"

I don't come any longer, as Donal interrupts me as he separates from me, a grim look on his face.

"Don't blame yourself," he sternly says. "As I believe Harry has already told you, you couldn't really help it."

Surprise floods me at that. Surprise that Donal does not blame me, surprise that Harry told him of our little talk.

"I know" I quietly admit. "Did Harry tell you?"

"No" Donal says. "But the undertones were obvious. He truly loves you. Am I right when I say I will have a brother?"

"You have nothing against it?" I say, surprised.

I will not abandon the trust Harry has given me. Donal may be my son by blood, but I will not let go of Harry just because of petty dislike. But it seems like that situation won't arise.

"No" he softly says. "I would love to have a brother."

Then he goes sombre. 

"But he seemed awfully torn up when he went to fetch you" he adds. "Has something happened?"

And suddenly, everything clicks into place. His strange behaviour today, his breakdown yesterday. This is what it was all about. I curse and rip the parchment out of my pocket, folding it up and reading it.

_"Sev!_

_I guess it's time for me to leave now, when your real son, Donal, is back in your life. First, I had planned to leave without telling you, but then, I decided to leave you this letter._

_I guess you have met Donal by now. He's a nice young man and I think you'll like each other. Besides, he's your son._

_I locked Honey into the room you gave me to stop her from following me. You can give her to Donal now._

_As the locking spell you used to secure the crystal is too advanced for me, I can't take it off by myself, but I'll send it to you as soon as possible._

_Last, all I want to say is that this month has been the happiest of my life and that I hope you will be happy._

_Always, Harry."_

With that, I curse again, probably shocking Donal with my foul language. He stares at my panicked face, and then grabs the note for him to read. Half a minute later, he shocks _me_ with _his _foul language. Then we dash as one out of the room and up the stairs. I blast the door open and is attacked by a distressed Honey. Somehow I seem to have forgotten to tell him that Honey chooses whom to be with. Absently, I stroke her.

"He's gone," Donal says, worry in his voice.

"No" I say, just as absently. "I know where he is."

Harry's POV 

I have planned this well. The moment Sev looks through the door into the room, I run away, up the stairs to my room. There, I pack my things, giving Sev time to remember me, come to me. But I know he won't. Nothing can break the bonds between parent and child. What I have shared with him means nothing when compared to that.

I have already decided where to go. Sirius told me he lived with Remus at his cottage for the moment, and that's where I'm going. Not on my firebolt though, but by floopowder. I just hope he's connected to the network.

Not wanting to disturb Sev and Donal, I decide to use the fireplace in Sev's room. I have already taken floopowder from downstairs so I just have to throw it in, squeeze the trunk into the fireplace and fit myself into it as well. Then I'm ready to go.

"Remus Lupin's cottage," I call out, sending my world into the puking feeling whirl of flooing.

Thankfully, it doesn't take very long, and soon, I fall out of a tiny open fire, the trunk falling after me. A loud bang is heard as we land, and it sends the two well-known figures of Remus and Sirius into the room, staring at me where I lie.

"Can you _please_ help me up?" I ask, looking at their baffled faces.

In a hurry, they get to my side. Sirius get the trunk off me, while Remus helps me up and assists me in getting rid of all the grime stuck to my cloths. Then they place themselves in front of me, looking curiously at me.

"Why are you here, Harry?" Sirius gently asks. "Is something wrong with Severus?"

I do notice his new address of Sev, but at the moment, I can honestly say that I really do not care at this point.

"I don't belong with him anymore," I simply say, even as it hurts like hell inside.

At that, Sirius and Remus share a _long_ look and to my surprise, Sirius doesn't look mad at all. I had thought he would try to go after him by now. In this moment, I really wonder what they talked about in the library just a few days ago.

"What makes you think that?" Remus carefully enquires.

I look down. I really have no right to be sad when I am the one who brought Donal to his real father.

"I found Sev's son and reunited him with his father," I say. "They are together now."

Another long look are shared between the two wizards, and as if Sirius had told him telepathically, Remus gives me a quick smile and disappears. At the same time, Sirius walks towards me, a serious expression on his face.

"I think we need to talk," he seriously says.

I am confused and look that way also as my godfather leads me out of the room, up a staircase and into a small cosy sitting room, where he silently beckons to me to sit down in the couch, taking place next to me. He looks me in my eyes for several moments, and then starts to talk, never letting go of my eyes.

"Harry, what is the meaning of family?" he softly says, very aware of my increasing confusion. "I know you haven't really been a part of one, but what do you believe it should be like?"

Family? Why is he talking about family? Nevertheless I will answer him as well as I'm able to with my small amount of experience.

"It's the ones you love closely," I obediently answers. "Not only parents, siblings and relatives, but also everyone else whom you hold close to your heart."

Sirius smiles faintly at my explanation, but the serious air around him doesn't even diminish a little.

"Exactly" he softly agrees. "Now, what do you feel about me? Would you consider me family?"

I don't understand where he is trying to get me, because somehow, I don't think this is about Sirius need for love.

"I love you, you are my godfather," I confusedly answer though. "Of course I consider you family."

"And Hermione, Ron, Sev?" he continues.

"Them too."

Sirius grips my hands now, conveying the severity of the situation I still don't understand.

"Would you ever kick us out if your father came back to life, even if he asked you to?" he plainly says. 

"No" I immediately say. "I would never…"

I trail off. I understand now. With my lack of experience I've made a grave mistake that quite possibly can cause a great rift between Sev and me.

"Do you see where I'm going?" Sirius gently says.

I blink, inwardly beating myself up for being so stupid.

"Yes" I silently say. "Even if Sev has gotten his son back, he won't just automatically shut me out of his heart and home."

"That's right" Sirius says, laughter in his voice. "And if I remember how that necklace of yours works correctly, Sev should be…"

He doesn't get any longer as a cold and horrifying voice is heard from downstairs.

"Where is he, Remus?"

It's Sev, and I have never heard him so furious before.

Next


	9. 

Chapter Eight 

Harry's POV

I swallow as I hear Sev stomp up the stairs, looking nervously after Sirius, whom is just disappearing through the door to an adjoining room. But I know I have to do this on my own. I was the one who messed up; I am the one who has to fix it. Yet, as the door is thrown wide open, I can't help but wince.

To say Sev looks pissed would be a true understatement. His black eyes are blazing, and his knuckles have whitened. Slowly, he raises one arm and beckons for me to approach him. I obey, not wanting to test his patience even more. Because this Sev is more like my teacher and less like the man I consider my dad. Another proof he is both. I stop before him, nervously looking into his eyes. His eyes blaze at me, but then he surprises me by hugging me tightly to him.

"Oh Harry," he mumbles into my hair. "I can't believe how completely stupid you are sometimes. To believe I would stop loving you just because you gave me back my son!"

He puts enough space between us to glare at me.

"Use your brain" he suggests, "Have I not told you over and over again I love you? I understand that this is new to you, but…"

I blush.

"Talk to me damn it!" he almost snarls. "Don't go off like that. Do you _know_ how worried I was?"

I look onto the floor, ashamed. Now afterwards, it was not very hard to see the faults in what I did. He _had _told me he loved me; he _had_ assured me he wouldn't leave me. Yet, I didn't see. 

Sev sighs and gently puts a finger under my chin, lifting my face so I am looking into his eyes.

"…Talk to me" he says almost pleadingly. "Let me help you adjust to a family. Don't do what you did _ever_ again. Please?"

It is almost comical how strangled he sounds when he chokes out that last word. Severus Snape _never_ says 'please'. But the severity of the moment just puts a weight behind the word and I can't help but see the desperation behind it.

"I won't," I silently promise him, looking squarely at him. "Sirius was kind enough to spell out the mistakes I did."

Sev rolls his eyes, clearly relieved by my promise. Then he hugs me tightly again before stepping back.

"Let's go," he softly says. "I think it's time for you to know what Sirius and I have planned. Besides, I'm sure he wants to make sure I haven't ripped you into pieces."

I growl a little. Here I have hoped they had put their differences behind them, but Sev just proved me wrong.

"You're such babies," I mutter under my breath.

Sev raise his eyebrows, but doesn't say anything as we continue walking. And I'm not sure about what to expect.

Sirius' POV

I've hated Severus for as long as I can remember. Sure, in the beginning, it was just petty dislike of a fellow student, but when he betrayed my parents, it became personal. Our quarrels and duels have gone to history at Hogwarts. But we never stopped to see the persons inside. Not that I _wanted_ to, Severus _is_ a slimy git after all, but we didn't consider _why_ we did what we did.

Then we didn't see each other for a _long_ time. Twelve years to be exact. And by then, Harry had come into my life. As the son of my best friends and my godson, he means more to me than the world. He's the only one left after Lily and James and the boy whom I babysat countless times when he was younger. I love him dearly.

Severus at that time was still free and he hated me still. But that was all right, I detested him too. The thing that was _not_ all right was that he hated Harry. However, there was nothing I could do about that as I was, _am_, a fugitive. Even though I wanted to take care of Harry I couldn't. And I blamed Severus.

I lived at the run, only getting to meet the boy I loved at rare occasions, having to be satisfied with letters. And then, the Triwizard tournament came, and everything changed. Harry changed, Voldemort changed and Dumbledore changed us. For the first time, I shook hands with my enemy. Then Dumbledore dragged us both off to his office to get us to leave explanations to each other.

I never knew he was my cousin. I never knew he had to grow up the way he did because of the fact that we lived under the Fidelius charm. But it certainly explained why Dumbledore forced us to live together after my parents' deaths in 7th year. And while it didn't make me love him, it made me understand he had his reasons, and we reached some sort of tentative understanding.

But that shattered when I heard that Harry had gone off to live with him for the summer. And when he told me he considered him a dad, it hurt. It hurt so much. But I understood. Severus was there, I wasn't. While Harry loved me, I couldn't be a 'dad' as I couldn't be with him. My hatred blossomed.

Then Remus and Severus ganged together. Now _that's_ a sight I do _not_ want to see again. Anyway, they practically beat it into my brain that Harry loved me that he _didn't_ love Severus more, that he _did_ consider me a father's figure, and that while Severus and Harry shared things I can't understand, Harry and I do the same. And _then_ Severus declared that he would help me catch Peter, for 'Harry's sake'. I _hate_ that man!

Anyway, I did understand, and the speech I gave Harry is actually a rip off from the one I got from the 'inquisitors from hell'. I'm beginning to see what he meant about Harry and me sharing things they didn't. We do the same mistakes.

I left them upstairs to talk things out. I don't like the fact that I can't take part, but I can't. I did my thing before when I had my talk with him. So instead, I chat with Donal downstairs, marvelling over the fact that I've known him for years and never suspected he was Severus' son. Because I've spent considerably much time at Arabella Figg's house, one of my main hiding places. It feels strange to realize I have another relative so suddenly.

"How come you never told me?" I ask after having spent a few minutes discussing old memories.

Donal shrugs and gives me an infuriating smile.

"You never asked" he says and grins. "Besides, I had no idea you know my father."

I grimace.

"We aren't exactly the best of friends, you know" I reply. "I don't think he'll approve of us being friends. Or the hair thing."

Donal chuckles and flips his long, black hair over his shoulder, imitating a gesture I use to make all the time. His hair is only an inch longer than mine, so it looks very accurate.

"It's my hair," he says, smirking. "I can do whatever I want with it."

I just shake my head.

"Yes" I agree "but somehow, I don't think he'll like the fact that you copied my hairstyle."

A growl is heard from behind me, and I turn to see Severus and Harry behind me, the latter smirking, the former glaring. Harry walks up to me and hugs me.

"Thank you" he whispers.

I smile at that. The soft words sooth my pain and let me feel happy again.

"You're welcome" I whisper back, and then speak aloud. "So Severus. Don't you like that I know your son?"

Severus continues to glower at me and Remus and Harry collectively sigh while Donal looks faintly amused. But as much as I love annoying Severus, we have other things to discuss.

"Let's cut to the chase" I comment and invite Harry to sit in the couch with me. "As we're all here, we may as well have that talk."

Harry bounces onto the couch next to me, sprawling out in a position looking very uncomfortable.

"What talk?" he asks as Severus tries to decide if to sit next to him or in the armchair across the room, as far away from me as possible.

Harry makes the choice for him though, tugging sharply at his shirt, sending him down onto the couch in a highly undignified way. Then he winks at me, making me chuckle slightly before answering the question.

"Severus and I made a deal," I explain. "For your sake, we will tolerate each other. He will also help me prove myself innocent. Besides that, I'm going to stay with you and him on the holidays."

That last thing, we had not agreed on though. Harry doesn't know that though, and the matter is quickly settled as he throws himself around Severus' neck, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Sev!" he says.

Severus awkwardly hugs him back while glowering at me. He has become as Harry-whipped as I, there's no way he'll deny it now. And as I see the Boy Who Lived's smug look as he settles down between Severus and me again, I start to suspect that Harry caught my bluff and skilfully manipulated his new won father's figure into submission. That boy is dangerous. Sometimes, I'm truly surprised he didn't end up in Slytherin.

Remus and Donal seem to have caught up too, because they look highly entertained.

"You know you were just elegantly manipulated, right father?" Donal chuckles.

Severus lightly smacks Harry and fake glares at him.

"No!" he sarcastically says. "Naughty, naughty Harry."

Sev's POV

And now he's manipulating me. Gee, isn't it fun to experience fatherhood? Jokes aside, I'm overjoyed to have found Harry well and safe, and to have talked through the matter of his disappearance with him. I love the boy, and I won't stand for him getting hurt. Even if it means I'll have to put up with Sirius every holiday.

I'm worried about what will happen when the summer holiday is over though. When I will be under the direct eye of Voldemort again and Sirius will be on the run again. Then we will not be able to be together as much as now and I will have to act nasty again. If only I can be sure on how that will affect our relationship. My doubts are probably foolish, but I can't help having them. Besides, I wonder what Granger and Weasley will say about Harry and me being family.

If someone were to take a picture of us now, I doubt that anyone will see anything but a big, happy family. Harry, Sirius and I sit in the couch with Harry in the middle, smiling brightly due to the light atmosphere created by Harry's little trick. Remus sits in an armchair opposite of Sirius, looking pleased with a twinkle in his eyes I haven't seen in quite a while. And opposite of me, my lost son Donal sits, gazing at Harry and grinning. Somehow, I think they'll be good friends.

It has been a good evening tonight. And even if it will not last forever, it will be a memory to hold on to. A memory to bring hope and happiness to our minds and hearts. Because tonight, there are no hostility, not even between Sirius and me. 

Then suddenly, a loud pop is heard from the open fire, startling us all. Sirius is actually already on his feet, wand pointing at the open fire. But instead of a deatheater or something like that, a small furry whirlwind has cuddled itself against Harry, making small, satisfied noises. Honey found her master.

Next


	10. 

**Epilogue **

_Harry's POV_

It has been an…eventful summer. But now, it's over. I'm standing at the side at platform 9 ¾, Honey wrapped securely around my neck, Padfoot lying smugly on my feet. Donal is talking animatedly to me, trying to explain how you get to Durmstrang. I'm listening, but not with all my attention. Sev is standing a few feet away, looking mostly like a dementor in human disguise as he glowers at everyone daring to come near us. That man could easily win an Oscar for his acting skills.

This is the last time for a while we will see each other. Sirius and Donal will be going away, and Sev will be teaching again. Yet, I can't feel completely sad about it. I mean, this means I'll meet Hermione and Ron again. And to be honest, Sev's and Sirius' constant bickering is starting to get on my nerves. Because even as they're not openly hostile anymore, they aren't best friends either.

And now the wall posing as the gateway shimmers, activating to let in the first students. We share a last goodbye and then I'm alone again, seeing as Sev brings Honey to Hogwarts so she won't have to endure the bumpy train ride there. 

Students fill the platform now, and I spot Draco at the far end, climbing onboard one of the cars at the front. Thank God, I didn't run into him, or I might have used one of the hexes Sirius and Donal have taught me this summer. But that won't do. Yet at least.

"Harry!"

It's the voice of a girl and I turn around just in time to receive a warm hug from Hermione.

"Mione!" I smile. "It's great to see you again!"

And it is. She has grown over the summer, filling out and becoming a pretty young woman. Personally, I think Ron will be tongue-tied

"I have had _such_ an exciting summer!" Hermione smiles. "Mom and dad brought me to Scandinavia to hike in the mountains, celebrate Midsummer and see wild dragons. I've learned so much!"

I grin back at her. She may have changed outwardly, but inwardly, she's quite the same.

"I'm happy for you," I reply. "My summer was pretty good too."

Hermione nods, an expression of wonder on her face.

"I still have a hard time believing it," she says. "I mean, Snape nice, kind even! That alone is a miracle. And then you are 'family'… You must be so happy, Harry!"

"Believe me, I am," I grin. "But I could live without the nagging. I swear, I've been out every day this summer. And if I _ever_ have to eat a meal as balanced as those Sev makes me, I'm going to scream."

Hermione looks amused at my vivid language, but gives me an appraising look.

"It has done a lot of good though," she comments. "You look like a gingerbread, and I wouldn't be surprised if you're even taller than Ron now. It's like you have physically become a perfectly normal teenage boy just over the summer."

I shrug, trying not to roll my eyes.

"It wasn't my idea," I tell her. "Sev has strange ideas on how a healthy boy should be. And if you add Remus' and Sirius' ideas to that…"

I don't get any longer as Ron comes sprinting over to us. Hermione is right. I do top Ron with about an inch now.

"Mione, Harry!" he yells.

Hermione and I smilingly meet him.

"Hi, Ron!" I grin.

"Harry, you've grown," Mrs Weasley states as she manages to catch up with her son.

Ron only stares.

"Summer with Snape sure has been good to you," he finally says. "I never thought I'd say this, but thank God for Snape. You're not a midget anymore Harry."

Hermione whacks him.

"That was just down right rude," she tells him.

And poor Ron melts into mush. He's almost embarrassingly taken with Hermione's new looks.

"You're pretty!" he almost cries.

I snicker and Hermione looks pleased. Those two can be so fun to look at sometimes.

"Well, thank you, Mr Weasley" she nobly says, then laughs and hugs him too.

The colour of Ron's face rapidly becomes a shade redder than his hair.

*****

The Great Hall seems to be even louder this year as everyone but the 1st years have sat down, I notice. I'm chatting slightly with Ron and Hermione, waiting for the feast to begin. So far, neither Sev nor Honey have arrived; even if I doubt it will take much longer for either of them.

I glance at my wristwatch, and then poke my two best friends. As they look questioningly at me, I smile smugly.

"Watch Malfoy" I whisper. 

Heading my advice, they look over to the Slytherin table just as the white haired Deatheater's child sips on his pumpkin juice. Then, suddenly, he sprouts two elegantly twisted horns as his face suddenly develops a drastic growth of facial hair. Ron chokes on his chocolate frog and Hermione seems to fight back a sudden urge to laugh. Those around her don't manage as well though, and it doesn't take long until Malfoy is the centre of everyone's attention.

"A simple potion," I comment as his fellow Slytherins try to unhex him, unsuccessfully I might add. "Has skin of a Boomslang as a main ingredient, but flavouring it with a bezoars stone makes you grow horns as well as a nice, bushy beard."

Hermione looks at me with a musing look on her face.

"I guess you've learned a bit about potion making when you lived with _him_," she slowly says.

I nod, hiding a grin as Sev enters the Hall from a side door. He only glances at Malfoy, and then raises one eyebrow in my direction. Then I don't notice much more as my face suddenly is cuddled by a hyper Honey.

"Calm down!" I mutter and pry her from my face, settling her on my shoulder.

Squeaking accusingly at me, she wraps her long tail securely around my upper chest as if to keep me from disappearing. Ron and Hermione watch me struggle with curious looks on their faces.

"This is Honey" I introduce. "I believe I told you about her in my letters?"

Hermione nods.

"You did," she says. "She's so cute!"

Ron and I share a resigned look as Hermione pets the cuddly creature I now wear. Girls! Then my friends freeze and I hear the beloved voice of Sev from behind.

"The try-out potion I assume?" he softly says, so low that no one but Ron, Hermione can and me hear while glaring menacingly at me as to not make anyone suspicious.

"Yes, sir" I reply with a naughty grin.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he looks at me.

"Well done," he comments under his breath, then glide away to bring Malfoy to the hospital wing while looking remarkably unpleasant.

"Wow" Ron breaths. "He really _is_ nice."

I shrug and glance at the doors.

"Oh, look, they're coming!" I exclaim.

And as we turn to watch the Sorting begin, we can truly feel that the new school year has begun. That we finally are 6th years.

Home


End file.
